Injured on duty and no longer fit for active service,
soon-to-be-ex-Coast Guard Bran Kaulana is drifting, filling his days
helping out at the Wai Ola Rescue Center, one of Honolulu's wildlife
charities. He's working with the new veterinary, Steve Lucas, a man
drawn to O'ahu by his fascination with dolphins.

As their friendship slowly deepens, the two men are caught up in the
mystery of injured seals and dolphins, a ruthless gang of smugglers and a
not so dormant undersea lava vent.

Excerpt

Chapter One

The hoist whined, swinging the canvas-wrapped body out over the
catamaran's stern. Luckily the sea-swell was slight, and Bran braced his feet
against the rear of the diving shelf, flattened his hands on the wet fabric and
locked his muscles. The background ache in his thigh and hip became a hotter
pain, but he ignored it. Right now he couldn't afford the distraction. The last
thing they needed was for this to go wrong, and with fading light and
unfamiliar equipment that was just what could happen. The loaded sling swayed
with the sea's motion and he gritted his teeth as the inert weight threatened
to shove him back.

"Keep her headed into the waves!" he yelled over his
shoulder.

"I'm trying!" Anna shouted back, and the catamaran
wallowed for a few moments while the girl juggled the controls. Wave crests
glowed phosphorescent in the dusk, shimmering away from the twin prows as the
cat turned once more into the wind.

A convulsion rippled through the powerful form trapped in the
canvas. Tension thrummed under Bran's hands and he swore. "Shit, he's
coming out of it!" Matt was suddenly at his side, helping to keep the
sling from swinging in over the deck. "Lower away!" It dropped a
couple of feet, nearly dragging the two men off their feet. "More!"
Bran ordered, and then gave a final call. "Release!" The hook snapped
open, the sling unfolded and dumped its now wide awake cargo into the water.
Vin grabbed their belts to stop them falling after it.

Vin's yodeling whoop would have stampeded cattle in his native
Texas. "One down," he said. "Two to go. Then we party. God, I
can taste that kalua pig now!"

Bran didn't answer. Out here, half an hour off O'ahu's shore,
learning the foibles of the catamaran he'd collected only a few hours ago, he
felt alive. Ashore, it was as if he was living a half-life. But he didn't give
himself a chance to brood on it. There were two more Monk seals to return to
the sea, and the tranquilizer clock was counting down.

The rest of the operation went smoothly. The last seal
disappeared under the waves and Bran took over the wheel, leaving the rest of
his team to relax in the stern. He turned the Sun Dancer towards the
island, only half-listening to the jubilant conversation going on behind him.
Ahead were the sparkling lights of Honolulu and Waikiki, and Bran was sure he
could smell the tropical perfume from the gardens and hillsides. It threaded
through the ozone, and he drew it in through nose and mouth--it tasted green,
vibrant, and the pleasant buzz of a successful mission was intensified.

"I'm calling first shower," Anna announced. "Vin
can wash my back."

"Fine," Bran said over his shoulder. "You want to
go next, Matt?" Facilities at the Wai Ola Rescue Center were pretty basic,
and he was in no hurry.

"Sure. I'll give you a hand putting the slings out to dry
while the lovebirds go and play."

"As long as they don't play too long, or there won't be any
food left for Vin." Bran smiled.

"No sweat." Matt chuckled. "I'll just flush the
head. A blast of cold water will do the trick."

There was a brief scuffle and a shriek from Anna as she tried
unsuccessfully to tip Matt into the water. Since he was a foot taller than her
five-three, she failed. Nor would Vin help. He just pointed out that throwing a
Lieutenant Commander overboard was not the way a Junior Lieutenant got ahead in
the US Coast Guard. Matt's promotion was new enough to still be the cause of
ragging among his friends.

Bran let the banter wash over him, concentrating on the sea and
the steady beat of the powerful engines driving them toward the shore. In
another instance of sheer irony, his own promotion to the same rank had come
through while he was still in the hospital, and it was a bittersweet
achievement. The Coast Guard wasn't going to be his life for much longer.

A fluke accident puts Perry in a coma. When he awakes, his scrambled synapses
have given him a talent; he can tell truth from lies. This, plus the new
client, Drew Connors, who is too attractive for Perry's peace of mind, Drew's
contentious family and the dilapidated old mansion Perry has to restore for
him, not to mention the anonymous threats that escalate to attempted murder,
all ensure that Perry's life will never be the same again.

Excerpt

Chapter One

"What the hell?" I was too
mad for my howl of outrage to be anything other than a harsh screech. Cray and
the twink separated with something less than style and grace.

"Perry--hi--" Cray started,
hitching up his pants and fumbling his zipper closed. "I--uh--it isn't
like it looks, I swear!" His curly brown hair was disheveled, and the
flush of arousal was rapidly draining from his cherubic face, leaving him pale
with shock.

"No? Because to me it looks like
a train-wreck! You bastard! You're screwing that little fruit-fly on our
couch!"

"No!"

Since the kid was bare-assed naked,
the denial was a waste of breath. And the last straw. The large earthenware pot
of zinnias I'd bought him for our back porch was conveniently in my hand and I
threw it as if I was trying out for the New York Giants. It missed his head by
inches and shattered against the wall, showering him with compost, shards and
bright flowers. "Stick that in your scrapbook, Romeo!" I hissed.
"You better be gone by the time I get back or I won't be responsible for
your asses!"

Seconds later, I was in my Mercedes
4x4 SUV and accelerating away with tires screeching. Two minutes later, a cop
pulled me over. A sympathetic and familiar cop. Joe Hardinger was a training
buddy from the gym I used when I didn't want to run circuits round the park,
and sometimes he'd join me on those runs. I was too hurt and angry to censor my
tongue, so the poor bastard got the whole sob-story whether he wanted it or
not.

His sympathy survived my verbal
onslaught and as I calmed down, I realized I was being not-so-subtly checked
out. Even though he and Cray had never met, Cray not being into regular exercise,
Joe knew that I was half of a same-sex couple, and I was fairly sure I'd have
noticed if he'd done it before. I'd automatically assumed he was straight.
That's the thing with my gaydar. Even on a good day, it didn't work so well.

Saturday, 9 February 2013

BUY LINK HERELove comes in all shapes and sizes. Love does not conform to any one
narrow definition. Love between two men is as poignant and true as love
between a man and a woman. Love is love.

My May/December story, Never Too Late, is among some pretty stellar contributions.

Stuart's long-time partner died six years ago, and he's been
alone ever since. Then he meets Tom. But Tom is twenty years his junior, and
Stuart can't take that in his stride.

Their age difference is irrelevant to Tom. This is it
for him. All he has to do is convince Stuart.

Excerpt

Normally it took Stuart less than ten
minutes to walk from the park's Pinetum
Drive entrance to his home on Seager Street. Not this time. Having to
stop and sort out leashes, and thwart the attempts of the two Jack Russells to
terrorize every small mammal they saw, more than doubled the journey time.

Maggie's house sat opposite his toward
the end of the cul-de-sac. The dogs had settled down as they turned into the
street, trotting along in some semblance of order. But Stuart frowned. A
strange car occupied Maggie's driveway, and two people stood in front of her
porch, the woman mostly shielded by the man. Lala yipped and struggled to be put
down, while the others started up a storm of yapping and furiously wagging
tails. Stuart set the poodle on the ground and the dogs surged forward. The man
turned round, revealing Maggie's pretty granddaughter. The man, though, was a
stranger.

In seconds, the dogs had surrounded the
pair, tightly binding their legs and forcing them into each other's arms.
Deanna laughed, hugging her boyfriend. His arms were locked tight around her,
his grin wide and white in his tanned and freckled face. Beneath his unruly tangle
of brown hair, his eyes were startlingly blue, and the web of fine lines at
their corners told Stuart this boy—man—did a lot of smiling.

"It's like a scene from that Disney
movie," Deanna chuckled. "Hi, Uncle Stu, it's great to see you
again."

"You, too, honey," Stuart
replied, and bent to free the couple from their hobbles and the milling dogs.
"You do know your gran isn't here, right?"

"Yes." Her expression darkened,
became uncharacteristically sad. "I called her and asked if we could stay
a while. I needed a break away and, well, it's been a tough month, you know?
Anyhow," she continued, voice and face brightening. "Uncle Stu, this
is Thomas Szabo. Tom, this is Stuart Donovan, my honorary uncle."

They shook hands solemnly, though Tom
kept one arm securely around the girl's waist.

"It's good to meet you, sir,"
Tom said. "Deanna's talked a lot about you. All of it good," he added
hastily, a flush reddening his cheeks. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, like
Deanna. He stood an inch or so shorter than Stuart and his lean frame was at
least forty pounds lighter. Stuart realized he was still holding the boy's—man's
hand and released it quickly.

This anthology includes:

A Return to Normalcy by Anel Viz Clean Monday by A.J. Llewellyn and DJ Manly Smoke Break by Allison Cassatta Unmasked by Patricia Logan Chosen by Pelaam Never Too Late by Chris Quinton Leap of Faith by Lexi Ander My Unintended by Faith Ashlin Solitude Disrupted by Andy Slayde and Ali Wilde Lord Godiva’s Pony Training by S.A. Garcia Watching for Love by Sara York Far from Home by Serena Yates Roadside Rescue by Nicole Dennis Check Mate by Sammy Jo Hunt

Friday, 8 February 2013

The giveaway competition to win a copy of Adam's latest book was held on the Jessewave Reviews website, but as some people commented on my site, hoping to win, I decided to draw a name from those as well. AAAND the winner is - JUDI! I'll be emailing her very soon to ask which is her format of choice.Thank you everyone who joined in and played, both here at at Jessewave Reviews!

Blurb - It’s 1991, and a group of English football fans are driving across
Belgium; their trip takes them through the site of a former battle, and
that’s when a strange sequence of events begins. For Dennis and Allan,
colleagues who cordially dislike each other, this means journeying
further still – into what appears to be the past, and into the lives of
two men who travelled this way seventy-five years earlier, whose
unfinished love-affair remains to be played out in full. As they move
backwards and forwards in time Dennis and Allan have only themselves to
rely on, no markers to show them where they’re going, and no real
certainty of ever finding their way home again.

Excerpt

Something in his rising agitation flipped a
switch in Dennis’s head; childhood trips in his grandfather’s car, the one with
the smelly red leather seats, and Dennis’s obnoxious little brother sitting for
hours at a stretch with his stomach heaving, clutching dementedly at the refuge
represented by a plastic bowl. “Oh shit, I think he’s going to be sick. Fuck
it, Gus, we’ll have to stop!”

Heaving a theatrical sigh of exasperation,
Gus obediently stood on the brake; there was nowhere close at hand where they could
safely pull off the road, which in any case was barely wider than the track of
the Toyota’s wheels, but the absence of other traffic should at least mean they
would be all right where they were as long as they were relatively quick.
“Dennis, open the door and let the bugger out; he’s not throwing up in my
bloody bus if I can help it!”

Dennis, galvanised into action, fumbled with
the catch, pushing the side door open and allowing thick fog into the van’s
interior. It was cold, wet; it wrapped itself around their faces like the
sticky tendrils of candy-floss

“Come on you,” he commanded Allan, “out!
There’s a nice big ditch out here; you can chuck up into that!” And so there
was, six feet wide and full of shining black water, on the surface of which the
mist was floating lightly.

Dennis virtually bundled Allan out shivering
onto the road, pushed him out the way a jump-master pushes a reluctant
parachutist; would have kicked him up the backside, too, if only their
respective positions in the van had allowed it.

“You stupid sods, don’t you understand?
Can’t you see what’s happening? The bastards are waiting for us, further up the
road!”

“What? Who are? You’re not making any sense,
you wazzuck; there’s nobody waiting for us; nobody even knows we’re here!” Which
was not, now that he came to think about it, quite the comforting sentiment
Dennis had been intending to impart, and far from calming Allan all he had
really succeeded in doing was further disconcerting himself.

But Allan was too distracted to continue the
conversation on any level, comforting or not. He was staring around himself
wildly, as if trapped and desperately seeking an escape route. Then without
preamble he turned and, taking only a couple of steps by way of a run-up,
quickly leaped away across the drainage ditch beside the road and scrambled up
the bank at the far side of it, his long legs carrying him off at high speed
into the uncharted darkness of some anonymous farmer’s field until he was
completely swallowed up from sight inside a dense band of the all-enveloping
wet fog.

“Oh shit,” groaned Dennis,
staring after him with his brain calcified into total inactivity and a sinking
sensation in his stomach. “What the bloody hell are we supposed to do now?”

FOOL'S RUSH - Released today from Manifold Press, and to an amazing review from Mrs Condit Reads Books - 5 Stars and a Recommended Read! --

"I
adored all three books, reading them one after the other. I found the
pacing perfect, the plot complex and riveting, the characters compelling
and the ending satisfying with a twist I didn’t see coming. I can’t
recommend this series highly enough."And another from MM Good Book Reviews, 4 hearts! -- "I
have to recommend this to those who love vampires, a great storyline,
twists and surprises, some hot sex and a brilliant happy ending."

Fool's Rush Blurb - Father Esteve hires Xavi
to trace the true owners of the gold found in the crypt of San
Pedro-by-the-Wall, but it’s an old and tangled web. Someone has an
undisclosed agenda, and a rising tide of anti-vampire reaction sweeps
through Barcelona. It’s focused on Xavi and Andreas, which causes
additional problems with the vampires of Renaissance. Then Xavi meets a
handsome young man who isn’t all he seems, and that’s when things begin
to get even more complicated.

Excerpt

Andreas glanced across the
restaurant, and saw Lucien Boissant standing tall and slender as a spear just
inside the door. "No need, Señor Montserrat, he is an acquaintance. Please
ask him to join us."

"Who the fuck is
that?" Xavi demanded as the waiter moved away. "Shit, he looks like
trouble – that's the new warden?"

"Yes. Behave,
Xavier. This is not the time nor the place for dramatics." Xavi didn't
answer, but his expression became a wide-eyed disingenuous mask that would have
fooled anyone who didn't know him as well as Andreas.

Andreas didn't rise to greet Boissant as the
man approached. The waiter brought a chair for him, but Boissant didn't sit
until Andreas gestured an invitation.

"Like any other law
officer, a warden is never off-duty," Andreas replied. "How may I
help you?"

"I've been extensively
briefed by Señor and Señora Marlow," Boissant answered. "But I have
had no chance to speak with you, Doctor Cortes and especially First Councilor
de Santos. Since it's your duties in Renaissance I'll be taking on, I thought
it best we discuss matters first." Another snort from Xavi.

"The warden's office is
in the Council House. No doubt you've already been shown it?"

"I have. The file
cabinets are locked and the computer requires a password."

Xavi snickered, and received
cold stares from both men. "What?" he demanded, gaze limpid and
innocent.

Andreas turned his attention
back to Xavi. "Naturally, the place is kept secure," he said, his
voice and expression serene. "Had I known of the intended appointment,
other arrangements would have been made. As it is, other than myself, only the
First Councilor has access to the files and computer. As you are aware, a
warden does not answer to local councils but to the International Security
Department of the High Council, of which First Councilor de Santos is also a
member."

"I know that, Señor
Rousakis."

"Excellent. So as soon as
your position is ratified by them, I will gladly give you full access. I trust
Señor Marlow has already contacted them?"

Xavi changed a snort into a
cough, and picked up his wineglass.

"I assume so,"
Boissant said woodenly.

"Just to make sure, I'll
contact them myself as soon as I go home and I'll request the ratification be
fast-tracked. In the meantime, Warden Boissant, I suggest you begin to learn
the people and the area as soon as possible. It will also be necessary for you
to meet with the Barcelona Police. I'll set it up with Inspector Gavarró."

"Is that necessary?"
Boissant frowned. "I see no reason for me to have any contact with the
humans."

"Yes, Señor."
Andreas' voice was sibilant and ice-cold. "Very necessary. Renaissance is
ultimately under their jurisdiction. Wardens are a necessary buffer, but the
laws of Spain and Barcelona apply to all residents. Furthermore, Señor,
vampires are human, despite our differences, and prejudice will not be
tolerated. Is that clear?"

"Clear. But the
separation of our branch of the species from lesser –"

"Do not play semantics
with me. You will keep your opinions to yourself. They have no part in your
duties as a warden. If you feel unable to comply, I suggest you resign with
immediate effect."

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